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honeyedmiller · 5 months

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Sweet Thing | Joel Miller

pairing: jackson!joel x sunshine!f!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

warnings: jackson!joel, smut (unprotected piv), sweet pet names, sex in a semi-public spot, sort of getting caught, no specified ages mentioned. no use of y/n.

word count: 863

synopsis: the most unlikely pair in jackson just can’t get enough of each other.

divider by @saradika-graphics

“J-Joel,” You whimper, gripping onto his impossibly huge biceps. The fabric of his flannel felt scratchy underneath your desperate touch, and the scrape of the wiry hair on his jaw set your skin on fire.

His teeth nipped at your ear as the heavy drag of his cock came to a nearly unbearable halt; the deep timbre of his voice, even when it’d dwindled down to a mere whisper, sent shivers down your spine.

“Gotta be quiet, sweet thing. Can’t have anyone catchin’ us now, can we?” You bite your lip as he starts to move his hips again, slowly thrusting into you once more.

The squelching sound was so obscene that if your moans and whines didn’t give you away, your arousal would.

It was ironic that you two had found solace in each other. Jackson’s token ray of sunshine and the ever brooding Joel Miller: the most unlikely match there was. It was never meant to happen, but it just… did.

Being around Joel was easy. The man had such a soft spot for you. You’d been nothing but kind and gentle with him when everyone else was afraid. You carried a sparkle in your eye every time you laid your eyes on him, and that’s when he knew. He knew he had to have you.

If the residents of Jackson found out the both of you had been sneaking around the past few months, they’d all lose their minds. There’s no way they’d be able to puzzle together the pieces of your so-called ‘relationship’ with him, but you suspected at least Ellie had a hunch. The girl was smart and had been onto you two for as long as this had gone on.

You couldn’t help yourself, though. Being with a man that only reserved his soft side for you and his fortuitous daughter had you falling faster than you could keep up with, and at first, it truly terrified you.

You succumbed to his pure charm and good looks, though, which is how you ended up here—fucking in a broom closet in the Tipsy Bison because you chose to wear the pretty dress you found on patrol one day that Joel loved oh so much.

The slow drag of his heavy cock had you muffedly crying out his name, the feeling of it too much and not enough all at once. The man was all-consuming, invading every single sense that you had. It was intoxicating and purely addictive, and you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of him.

“Fuck, baby. Pussy was fuck’n made for me. Y’feel so goddamn good.” Joel’s words are slightly slurred behind his clenched teeth, trying to control his own sounds of pure bliss.

“Joel—” You cry again as he picks up his pace, and he has to cover your mouth with his hand because you cannot control yourself. He made you feel good in a way that nobody else ever has.

“I know baby, I know. Hush up now n’ take what I’m givin’ ya like the good girl I know y’are.” He coos, kissing your temple as he begins to thrust into you skillfully, tilting his body up so his cock hits your g-spot every single time.

Your eyebrows threaded together as your legs started to shake, your impending orgasm licking a flame up your spine as it threatened to spill over. Just like a match to a matchbox, Joel kept dragging and dragging and dragging until you lit aflame. The devastatingly delicious euphoria that ran through your body was truly unmatched as you convulsed around him, cries now muffled by his lips on yours.

His thrusts became sporadic, pulling out of you before grabbing a rag from a shelf to come onto. Not his finest moment, but he didn’t want to ruin that pretty dress of yours or leave any evidence of your intimate endeavors.

Joel cages you in between his arms as his hands rest on either side of your head against the wall behind you. He buries his face in your neck, catching his breath as he leaves tiny pecks along your pulse point. You mindlessly wrap your fingers around the back of his neck, gently dragging your fingertips against his hot skin while he took some time to recollect himself.

You giggle softly into his ear, kissing his neck once.

“That was fun.” You say, and Joel’s face moves to be in front of yours again. A rare smile curls onto his lips as he rests his forehead against yours, rubbing his nose against your own.

“My sweet girl.” He whispers with a chuckle laced into his words, kissing you once more before tucking his cock back into his jeans. He bends down to pull your panties back up and pulls your dress down past your hips, straightening you out so you don’t look completely fucked out.

Joel turns the knob to the closet, opening the door slowly.

“We gotta stop doing that in public places though, or else we’ll get caught.” You huff.

“Too late.” Tommy’s voice snaps both of your heads in his direction, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as Joel’s burns bright red.

Shit.

tags: @party-hearses ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @nostalxgic ; @cool-iguana ; @amanitacowboy

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller imagines #joel miller x sunshine!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller one shot #joel miller short story #joel miller x reader

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11vr1 · 1 year

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Been Away ⭒ Miles Morales

Synopsis › You were tired of his secrets and lies, so you did the one thing you promised you’d never do and walked away. But Miles Morales wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

Pairing › Earth-42! Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Inspo › “Been Away” - Brent Faiyaz

Includes › ATSV SPOILERS, Angst, the tiniest bit of fluff, pet names, spanish, a microscopic amount of manipulation, toxicity, going back to your ex, stalking, harassment, mentions being mugged, mentions being stabbed, mentions the police

P.S. › I do my best work when I’m sleep deprived.

P.S.S. › Reading comments and reblogs really make my day, even if you’re telling me my commas suck. Requests are also open.

Y/n pulled down the sleeves of her crocheted sweater as she stepped out of the bodega, white plastic bag of chips and candy in hand. The sun was close to setting behind skyscrapers and plunging New York City into its usual state of terror. It was dangerous to be alone on the streets, but Y/n figured she’d be fine walking a few blocks to her friend’s place. She pushed through sidewalk traffic, passing others who were just as eager to be safe in their homes.

Her phone chimed with a text.

Unknown: Turn left.

She paused, looking up to scan her surroundings. There was nothing strange or out of place. Just stores closing up for the night and people minding their own business. Despite how normal everything seemed to be, Y/n knew better. She spared a glance at the alley to her left, immediately deciding against it and kept walking.

Another chime. She ignored it and the next. Stopping wasn’t worth possibly ending up on the eleven o’clock news. At least that’s what she told herself. The less rational part of her mind had a thought. In some ways more terrifying than being mugged.

Tucked away in her pocket, her phone rang. This time she checked. Unknown. Y/n scoffed, rejecting the call.

Unknown: One more chance.

Unknown: Take a left.

Unknown: I won’t ask again.

Her phone rang once more. With a long, begrudging sigh Y/n swiped to accept. “I thought you weren’t going to ask again,” she said, her eyes darting warily to the darkening street.

“Make a left, Y/n,” a deep distorted voice ordered from the other line. Her heart dropped. Maybe the irrational part of her brain wasn’t as off kilter as she thought. The call hung up like she didn’t need anymore convincing.

The yawning mouth of an alley stared back at her. She took a calming breath, inhaling the morning rain before stepping away from any potential witnesses. Her footsteps echoed in the eerie silence of the alley. Her skin heated in either fear or anticipation, she didn’t know. “I don’t have all night,” she spoke into the open air. “I will leave.” Y/n attempted to hide the tremble in her throat.

Her ringtone was shrill in the alley. She jumped. The bright smiling photo of her friend illuminated her face. She did not hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“Thank god! You’re still alive. Are you close?”

“Yeah, I’m almost there, Ellie,” Y/n began to exit the alley. “The bodega line was long.” She rustled her haul of snacks.

“It’s getting dark. I can send my brother to meet you. Ya know he’s always had a bit of a thing for you and now that you’re single…” Ellie trailed off. Y/n could practically hear her smile.

She rolled her eyes, laughing nervously, “You don’t have to make him come get me. I’ll be—” She was cut off by her own scream ripping from her throat. A streak of darkness and neon flashed in front of her, swiping the phone from her hand. Her grocery bag tumbled to the concrete as she stumbled over her heels. Cold metal met her back. A well defined arm snaked around her waist, held her impossibly tight.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Her friend’s voice rose over the speakers.

The smooth phone screen pressed against her cheek. “Tell her you’re okay then hang up,” the same warped voice demanded in her ear.

Y/n felt her lips move before he ended the call. Some quick lie about a monstrous rat. Blood thrummed through her skull along with her ragged breaths.

“Let me go!” Y/n wrestling out of his grip with no resistance, finally turning around. She halted. Pixelated eyes narrowed at her. What had she been expecting? Was a mask better?

Getting slashed for the money in her wallet and being left for dead by a dumpster was starting to sound more appealing than her current situation.

Mechanic panels whirred and parted open. Rich, penetrating dark eyes took in every inch of the girl in front of him, peeling back layer after layer in that calculating glare Y/n knew all too well. “Hola, mami.”

She hoped to never hear that name fall from anyone’s lips. Much less his. Y/n allowed a selfish moment to let her gaze wander. His braids were fresh, obviously not her work. Fade clean. Jay’s untied. Bronze skin annoyingly flawless. He was the same, except for the faint bags decorating his eyes. His chuckle bounced off the brick walls, catching her. It was sobering.

“You have one minute, Morales. One minute before I run screaming and call the feds on your ass,” she crossed her arms.

“Morales?” Miles raised an eyebrow. “Damn. Is that what we doin’ now?”

“Fifty.”

He circled her like the predator he was, each footstep deafening. “You look good, ma. Where you goin’ so late? It’s not safe.”

“You know where! You’ve been following me, remember? How long have you been doing that for? Just another secret, huh?” Y/n was on the verge of yelling, her initial fear replaced by pure rage. “You’re not even going to deny it.”

Miles dared a step forward. Y/n took two back. “You’re afraid of me.” Her lack of an answer was a shattering confirmation.

“I’m afraid of what you do, Miles,” she motioned to his suit, the spray painted insignia physically painful to see on his chest. The Prowler. She would have never fathomed the possibility if she hadn’t seen him in action herself. “You’re a criminal. You steal. You’ve killed people,” she choked trying to swallow back tears.

He dragged a gloved hand down his face. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right! I don’t get it. You changed and I don’t understand why.” Her waterline welled. Three months of suppressed feelings threatened to rear their ugly heads when he was near. Because of him, of course.

It was ironic how much he made her feel, even now. Ellie, other friends, Y/n’s family never fully warmed up to Miles. He was unfeeling, nonchalant, closed off. They couldn’t see how a girl like her could fall for him and stay. At least that’s the promise she made.

“So did you. You walked away. Left me. What happened to our forever, Y/n?”

“You expected nothing to change? In what world would I not react or feel some typa way?” She tensed. Another wave of anger seared through her veins. How dare he turn this on her? “Oh wait,” her laugh was humorless. “I was never supposed to find out.”

“I have to do this. The world ain’t right and I need to protect the people I care about,” he placed a hand over his armor, over his chest. “I couldn’t do shit about my dad, but you…” He stalked closer. This time she didn’t back away.

Miles grasped her hand, placing it over his heart. She couldn’t face his intensity for too long, not without air. He wore the same musky cologne she gifted him for Christmas.“Mirame,” he tilted her delicate face towards him. “Mi corazón, I can keep you safe. You gotta let me. If something happened to you I don’t know what I would do.” His chiseled features twisted, barely able to utter the words. He finally closed the space between them, resting his forehead against hers.

“One minute,” Y/n whispered. It had been more than one minute.

Without separating, he slowly slipped her phone into her back pocket, letting his fingers linger by the waist of her jeans. “Call them. I’ll stay right here and you can end this. You’ll never have to see me again. Prometo, mi corazón.”

She should have listened when Ellie told her to stay away. Undeniably gorgeous, genius level intellect, sexy accent. There was always a catch, she said. She was right. But there was one drawback not even her best friend predicted.

Y/n pulled away. Suddenly the autumn air was too chilly through her sweater. She unlocked her phone. Typed 9-1-1. She looked up through her lashes at Miles as if he would melt into the shadows and escape. She didn’t expect sheer defeat to paint his face, unhidden behind his usual mask of indifference. Her thumb froze.

Miles Morales had Y/n entranced. He’d woven himself into her being, hollowed out a space in her soul just for him. Those titanium claws were in deep and she didn’t know if she had the strength to pry them out or wanted to.

Y/n pocketed her phone. She resigned to every emotion she harbored for the boy in front of her. She chose every wrong decision. “Go, Miles.”

His grin was smug. “Should I call you?”

“Don’t push it, Morales.” He draped his arms around her shoulders, dragged her into his warmth. “I’ll unblock you. Sound good?”

Miles angled his head. His smile stretched to his eyes, showing those rarely seen dimples. “Sí, mami. Whatever you want.”

#iivri writes ˚·⊹ ⟢˖∿#spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderverse spoilers #spiderman #miles morales #prowler miles #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #angst #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman angst #spiderman fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #Spotify

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imfinereallyy · 1 year

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“The demon is back.” Eddie pokes into Steve’s side to wake him up.

“Babe, please go back to sleep.” Steve shoves his face into the pillow, making his voice muffled.

“Steeeeve.” Eddie whines, “It’s really there I swear this time. And I locked the door so I know it’s the demon again. Nothing else can get inside.”

“Eddie.” Steve squishes his face even deeper into the mattress. “You do this at least once a week. I love you; I do. But I never look because there is no demon. And every morning, you wake up fine. So please, go back to sleep.”

“What if I promise never to mention it again if it’s not really there? Will you look then?” This time Eddie’s voice wavers, his actual terror showing.

Steve sighs and shifts his head to look at Eddie, “This is really freaking you out, huh?” He says it kindly. Steve can tell this is serious to Eddie. So even if he doesn’t believe it, Eddie does. And what’s important to Eddie is important to Steve.

Eddie nods back furiously.

“Okay, I’ll look.” Steve shifts his head towards the other side, where the chair by the window sits. There, sitting in that corner is a dark shadowy figure. “Oh.”

“See! I told you! Demon! Oh god, it’s gonna get us.” Eddie throws his hands up. Even though he’s terrified, he’s accepted defeat.

“No.” Steve says calmly. “It’s just El.”

Eddie pauses his rant, “What?”

“It’s just El. In the corner. She does that sometimes, watches people she cares about until she falls asleep. To make sure they’re safe.” Steve looks at Eddie.

“The door was locked! How are you so calm about one of the kids just watching us at night?”

“Honey, she has mind powers. I don’t think a flimsy lock from Home Depot is going to stop her.” Steve deadpans before shrugging, “And it’s El. She could ask me to kill a man, and I probably wouldn’t even ask questions.”

“What if she asked you to kill me?”

“I’d be conflicted.”

“I want to be mad, but honestly I think I’d hand you the knife.” Eddie sighs, looking down at Steve.

Steve scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t stab you. I’d obviously sneak some kind of poison into your honeycombs. Way less messy.”

Eddie goes back to nearly shouting, “Why have you thought about this?!”

“Honestly, I have a lot of intrusive thoughts. I just don’t speak them out loud.”

Despite the fact they are actively talking about his murder, Eddie can’t help but get all gooey with Steve in their bed. “Is this why you don’t get mad when I think aloud? Another reason why you just get me. Adding that tally to the ‘why we are great together’ column.”

“Yes, we’re pretty amazing. Can we go back to sleep now?” Steve smiles.

“Yes—wait, no.” Eddie corrects himself, getting himself back on track. He loves this man, but he is a sneaky little minx. “Why did El never say anything? I mean, this is not the first time I accused her of being a demon. Hell, we’ve been talking for literally five minutes, and she still hasn’t said anything. Also, what if she walked in on us doing, ya know, adult stuff?” Eddie blushes at the end. He’s acting like he hasn’t been whispering way worse things in Steve’s ear every night.

“First off, she won’t walk in on that. Apparently Max taught her about happy screams a long time ago.”

“Gross.”

“Yeaaa. Second, I’m pretty sure she’s asleep right now.”

Huh, now that Eddie thinks about it, he does hear soft little snores. Which is weird since neither he nor Steve snores, and they are both, ya know, awake.

“And I don’t think El speaking in a dark corner would have helped your fears. Like imagine just hear her soft “Hello” at 2 a.m.” Steve raises an eyebrow.

“I—okay I got nothing.”

“Fantastic can we go back to sleep now?”

Eddie gives one last shout, “You’re not going to stop her?”

“Are you going to tell her no? And make her worry?”

Eddie slinks down into the covers, “...no.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Eddie curves his body into Steve’s, seeking him out. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie, securing him to his chest. “Thank you for indulging me.”

Steve hums. “Anything for you baby. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Eddie kisses Steve lightly.

“I love you both as well.” El’s voice suddenly speaks into the silent room.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie screams.

Steve can’t help the giggles that come out of him. He tries to smother them into Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie can’t find it in himself to be mad.

———

some people seemed interested in more el + Steve sibling energy. And they are a sibling-like duo I love. So here’s a little something but more steddie involved. I think all three of their relationship would be very sweet. Both Eddie and Steve would protect el. I hope you enjoyed :)

#steddie #stranger things #el and Steve have a sibling relationship #el could set the world on fire and Steve would say good job #both Steve and Eddie have intrusive thoughts #they just go about it in different ways #Eddie Munson #eleven hopper #ficlet #fluff #steven harrington #my writing #no byler in this one sorry #steve harrington is a sweetheart #everybody lives/nobody dies #Post season 5 #steve x eddie

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gay-dorito-dust · 9 months

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Hey I was wondering if you would be up for writing a fic where the reader just showers Buggy in affection and just takes care of him. He could definitely do with some tlc

When you first shown Buggy any form of affection or love, his natural reaction was to pull away, to flinch, to push you away for the sake of upholding the gimmick he had thrusted onto him by others. He just wasn’t use to someone being genuine, being so kindhearted, patient and filled to the brim with unconditional love and adoration towards him like you have that it made him fearful, for the first time for he finally had something he was so scared to loose.

Buggy knew now that he couldn’t run away from this fight against letting himself drop his guard and fall apart within your arms forever, no matter how much he wanted to. He knew that one day he’d have to raise the white flag and admit defeat, little did Buggy know that he’d wave that white flag long ago and had admitted defeat whilst in the comfort of your arms and your sweet honeyed words. You provided Buggy with the safe space to be vulnerable, to be able to be rid of his make up, allow for you to see the beautiful man beneath the flashiness, the gimmicks and the theatrics; He even remembered the words you told him when he first allowed himself to sink deeply into your embrace, which opened his eyes to the route he was leading himself down towards.

‘Just because one person destroyed your ability to put your trust in others doesn’t mean that everyone else is going to do the same.’ You whispered into his ear as your hands ran through his beautiful blue hair with care. ‘The actions of one person isn’t a reflection of others. You can choose to not trust but live to regret to be open with that one special somebody or open up to everybody and blindly hope that they don’t use your kindness to stab you in the back.’

Not that Buggy would ever tell you but you held his glass heart within your hands and instead of smashing it like he originally thought you would, you surprised him by holding it close to your chest; looking down at it adoringly and so full of love that it made Buggy a tad teary eyed, for if someone as beautiful and downright perfect as you could ever love someone as flawed as him without being forced into loving him…then he guessed that he was finally doing something right. Soon enough your arms and being smothered in your kisses and honeyed words had become Buggy’s most favoured place to lay his aching self to rest after a seemingly stressful day, where nothing seemed to go exactly to plan.

‘You look comfortable there? Hard day?’ You asked softly as Buggy grunts as he buries his head into your neck, his arms quickly latching onto your waist tightly. Normally you’d have to be the one who initiated affection, which you still do on most occasions, but you also wanted Buggy to feel comfortable to come seek you out on his own terms rather then force him to. ‘Just cuddle me will ya?’ He said groggily and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his neediness.

‘What’s the magic word?’ You teased, trying so hard to bite back your snickers when Buggy lifted his head from your neck to glare at you softly but before he could say anything, you pressed a quick kiss to his cute nose, rendering him wide eyed and speechless before going in to plant a kiss directly to his lips. ‘Cute.’ You whispered against him, getting off on the expressions you pull out of him from gifting him basic levels of love and affection, before pulling away to look back into his gorgeous eyes that you never went a day without complimenting.

‘I’m not cute.’ Buggy said, his cheeks warm as the arms at your waist tightened their grip. ‘Dogs are cute, cats are cute, but I am not cute. I’m terrifying, people look at me and shit themselves from running away with their tails between there legs. And even then the ones that are stupid enough to stay behind are made examples of, so please tell me again how I’m apparently cute.’ He finished, choosing not to look into those soft, understanding and patient eyes of yours that he oh so loved. ‘You’re always cute to me Buggy,’ you started, raising his head to look directly at you by his chin, allowing your hand to drop back to his waist when you were confident he wouldn’t drop his gaze again.

‘Just like how you’re not only just cute but you’re also handsome, strategic, expressive with the way you talk and how you move your hands whilst you talk, flashy, dramatic, and above all you’re beautiful.’ Between each word you’d press a kiss to some part of his face, ignoring his adorable squeals and squawks of surprise that were music to your ears, not caring that you were smudging his make up and getting it on yourself as you held nothing but pride in your love for your Buggy, for as on rare occasions you would openly express your love towards him but saved a majority of it for behind closed doors; Not as though Buggy was anything but boisterous of his love for you and would shout it to the rooftops for all to hear in a possessive sort of way.

‘Really?’ Buggy asked once the flurry of kisses came to an end, looking at you with bright, hopeful eyes it melted your heart. ‘Yes, of course I do Buggy. How could I not? I’m extremely lucky to have you in my life and I couldn’t be more happier.’ You told him, watching as a goofy smile graced his lips as a chuckle fell out from his lips before Buggy decided to burying his head back into your neck, where he whispered against the skin there. ‘If either one of us is the lucky one, it’s me because you could’ve listened to everyone else and avoid me like the plague but you didn’t and I’m glad you didn’t because without you I wouldn’t know where or who I’d be. So thank you for never giving up on me…I love you.’

#opla x reader #opla buggy #opla buggy x reader #one piece live action #opla #buggy x reader

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hwaitham · 3 months

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𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓸𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓯𝓪𝔀𝓷 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 ⋆ ࣪˖ 𓂃𓋜

al haitham x f!reader . sfw — hurt ﾉ comfort . established relationship . rewrite from an old blog ﾉ insecure reader ﾉ he calls u ‘ habibti ‘ + ‘ baby ‘ + ‘ sweetheart ‘ ﾉ non - sexual nudity ( ie. u bathe together ) ﾉ reader is heavily insp by me n' this is a piece i wrote to comfort myself over anything soo .. Ya ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა pwz b kind with ur comments thanku!!!! ꒱ྀི 3.9k wc

“i’m always clinging onto you… and i depend on you quite a bit… don't you find it to be bothersome?” (i’m sorry if my love for you feels harrowing, unbearable, suffocating; i’m sorry the only way i know how to love is like a child.)

all it takes you is one little step past the front door, and al haitham immediately realises you’re unhappy.

it's hard not to, when it comes as large as a raincloud hanging over the house.

first, a drizzle with the drag of your feet; steps that are normally light and fawn-like and struggling to catch up with his own long strides, a wee bit skittish and much more adorably clumsy than you’d care to admit, are now sluggish. devoid of their usual urgency and purpose.

then, a deluge, as he hears you heave a sigh from beyond his tome. you’re burdened by something, he notices, as you scuff along the hardwood floor, let your book bag—and subsequently your heart—tumble to the ground.

“welcome home.” al haitham rises from the daybed, coming to meet you in the foyer. “how… was work?”

something in his tone, the pause in his question and the uncharacteristic apprehension of it makes your heart wither and crumble. quick as ever is he with his eyes—most especially when it comes to you.

how you so wish in this moment that weren’t the case.

“fine!” your reply is light, “just, i’m a bit tired… is it okay if we eat leftovers from last night for dinner? i’m really sorry…” when you smile up at him, it doesn’t meet your eyes, nor too do your eyes meet his own.

lies—you’ve never been all that successful at convincing him of them, due in part to the guilt that you can’t keep hidden from your countenance, as well as the callowness of your voice that seems to render any falsity you utter ring with an air of untruth.

“it’s nothing to apologise for.” he says slowly, standing before you as he awaits the hug you always give him when you arrive home from work, the press of your ear over his heart. you up on the tips of your toes as you ask him for a kiss and to cut up a peach so you might feed them to each other as you sit on the sill facing village hills.

you do none of these, and al haitham wonders why.

walking past you, he ruffles your hair, softly scritches at your scalp. “go wash up; i’ll set the table.”

you want to speak, say thank you, but you can find no words. a deep melancholy breaks over you like a hurricane. it terrifies you. but still you lift your head, look past his ear as you smile again to hide all the woe-rapture that festers within.

and this is all it takes for al haitham to resolve that he will do something about it.

the tahchin is bitter on your tongue today.

grains of rice pebbly between your teeth, chicken tasting far too much of chicken and not the blend of spices it had been marinated in. it’s near unpalatable.

and just as it is unpalatable, it is a most arduous task to even lift your fork. the weight of your melancholy is clamped to your wrist and your jaw—it makes eating all the more difficult than it need be, and a knot at the back of your throat that feeds the taste of bile into your mouth only serves to darken the shadow that your malaise casts over dinner.

how is it: your favourite dish losing its ability to console, its only purpose to be a vessel for sustenance. yet, even at that, what sustenance does it provide you with when each bite makes you feel as though you might hurl?

“you’re not eating.” al haitham observes sharply, glancing at you out the corner of his eye. it’s a serious shortcoming in his mind, obviously, for someone who does so dearly enjoy her meals.

you shrug despondently and sigh, “suppose i’m just not hungry.”

as much as he may want to, al haitham doesn’t push further—his hand hovering over a button before deciding to leave it untouched in fear of what may come. and you’re grateful, that he doesn’t ask you what the matter is, and simply hums in acknowledgement before returning to his food.

(his silence casts a harsh stroke upon your heart.)

you’re grateful, truly, you are.

(you hear his voice in your head—‘are you alright, habibti?’, and quickly, you seize a grasp of your heart to stop the bleeding that threatens to reach your eyes.)

now you’ve gone and worsened the spoil of your appetite.

resting your fork on the worn wood table, you sigh yet again—this time around a soft wispy thing that does little to soothe the ache of your lungs, and turn your head to regard his profile.

the relaxed ridge of his brows and the handsome slope of his nose, lidded teal eyes that are always analysing, never idling; he is just as a diamond is. all sharp edges that glimmer and glint, not only in body but also in mind.

al haitham is beautiful by way of his nurturing and guiding in a seemingly unorthodox manner. generous with his intentions no matter how hard he may try to prove otherwise, clever and witty and always five steps ahead and so incredibly attractive in his self-assurance—oh, he is just perfect—as is the ground he walks upon and the air that floats over his head and each word that touches his lips.

what is he like… winter fields blanketed by the sun and the tips of flower petals after a deluge, bubbles in wine, diamonds, diamonds, all diamonds. he is a brilliant blue diamond in your night sky.

and you, what are you like?

puerile at heart and loud with your love. a wee bit foolish and entirely silly, always fumbling and mumbling and messing up in spite of trying your best.

if al haitham is as a diamond is, then perhaps you would best be suited to a pearl—with those little dewy globes resting on your lashes more often than not, a heart smooth to the touch and all the more fragile.

which, yes, does sound rather precious when worded in such a way, but you can’t help but wonder, if for al haitham you are too much.

whether your whimsies are too fantastical, and your brain is too often in the clouds and not in your head where it belongs. or whether the apple-sweet naivety that offers your heart up to anyone who shows you even a modicum of kindness, be it honest or corrupt, is too much of an annoyance to look after. you worry whether your love is too strong for someone like him who has grown so comfortable in his own company, like fire scorching his blood or the waves of the sea crashing along a cliff or the sticky residue of honey on fingertips that just won’t wash off.

these woes slather uncertainty over your spine, and before you can think, you’re already reaching over to clutch at al haitham’s sleeve.

it’s an effort to command his attention, silently, for if you call him by his name instead, you fear the tears may fly out your eyes and the pathetic hiccups out your throat and you’d weep until the end of eternity. that’s how it feels, anyway.

“yes, habibti?” al haitham wipes the corner of his lip with his thumb and lays down his fork just as you’ve done yours. he waits for your voice to fill the heavy air of the dining room, but when he notices the nervous nibble of your lip and the twiddles of your thumb, he sighs, pulls you in closer by the leg of your chair. “you know, you shouldn’t be afraid to tell me if anything’s troubling you. i’ll do my best to help however i can.”

his hand swallows your fist in a comforting embrace, plucking your fingers free one by one so that he can thread his between yours. it’s a challenge to not look his way when he behaves so darling, and in his eyes you see a certain pleading softness swimming round the edges of his pupils.

it’d be hard to notice to an untrained eye, what with his acts of romance mostly always lacking the entirety of pomp and blare in the world, but you can tell—of course you can.

it holds you spellbound, compels you to give in, and so, you reach your trembling hands past your ribs and take hold of your burgeoning heart, pay little heed to the rose thorns that scrape and scar it as you tug it free of its cavity. placing the lame organ in front of al haitham, you wince at all its clotted ugliness and self-serving insecurity.

“that’s exactly it… i cause a lot of trouble for you, don’t i.”

(am i too much? am i too overbearing?)

“i’m always clinging onto you… and i depend on you quite a bit… don’t you find it to be bothersome?”

(i’m sorry if my love for you feels harrowing, unbearable, suffocating; i’m sorry the only way i know how to love is like a child.)

“it’s just—” there’s a fracture in your voice and then a whimper that follows.

you’re quick to avert your gaze from him and down to the worn wood table, at your grubby plate of food. the words, recited in your head over and over slip away from your tongue and leave it laid with only scribbled thoughts; they float up—up—up… and then your eyes squeeze shut and your fingertips press anxiously into the space between his knuckles and your shoulders shirk in on themselves.

as many a time have you weeped before him—over the loveliness of a perfectly sunny day or a particularly sweet and excellent bite into a zaytun peach, over all things nonsensical and silly and things that one ought not to be weeping at. but in this moment, you feel obliged to hide your tears from him.

you’d rather he didn’t see you cry, at least, not over something like this.

not over yourself.

“it’s just, i can’t help but feel as though you’d fare better off with someone more like you—someone more sound in mind and less chaotic at heart, perhaps. i dunno…” you pick idly at your food, the tooth of your fork accidentally sending a grain of rice flying to the floor under the pressure of its touch. how unfortunate. “i don’t know…”

(i wish i were more like you. maybe then i’d feel like less of a liability at your side.)

in all your days of loving al haitham, you’ve only presented your heart to him as a dog would to its human, but today you’re atoning. it’s near sacrificial—your laments and apologies for being too much, too little, not enough, whatever.

your heart waits anxiously before him: sliced down the precise centre, carmine, bleeding, beating.

and for the first time since you’ve come bounding into al haitham’s life, his house is silent, though, this silence seems to dislike being broken as he mulls yours words over—save for the sad hymns sung by the wind and the gauche scritches and scratches of your fork atop ceramic.

the tears begin to brim and froth behind your lash-line, like milk on the stove that boils and isn’t being kept a watchful eye over. yet, even as your vision begins to blur, you know al haitham is glancing your way.

he takes your heart into his mouth and cradles it gently within his maw.

“is this what’s been on your mind? silly girl.”

your lover leans into your personal space and flicks your forehead gently, coaxing your gaze from your lap to his face.

“your heart is rather big.”

(you make it easy to adore you. and i like that. it saves me so much trouble making myself adore someone.)

“you both love and loathe it in equal parts.”

(you will always be so free and blithe, as you will always be naive and afraid. such is the eternal nature of your heart—it will coddle and weather in its fragility until its last days. won’t you trust it to me to make sure of? to care for?)

“yes—you cry too often, and you forgive too easily, and you worry too much about those who aren’t deserving of your care, and you feel guilt too strongly over things you have no control over.”

(you are so precious, so pure, so full of infinite compassion for the world.)

“it’s easy for one’s heart to be trampled over if it’s held in their palms, for the world to see. just as you hold out your’s.”

(to me, your beauty lies heaviest within your fawn heart.)

al haitham’s words are veined with ice, and your lips freeze in their subtle pout—one that wobbles on the edge of a dejected frown, “it’s not like i mean for it to—”

“but don’t you realise that’s why i’m here? why i’ll continue to be here? to catch your heart before it has a chance to get trampled over, and to tend to it when it does?” the ice crackles through his words and they all break up, as if it were spring again. “don’t you realise this is what i admire most about you?”

(i love you.)

for a moment, your heart flutters queerly. the veil shrouding your thoughts lifts and you’re left to be shaken and pierced by al haitham’s tender tone.

“it sounds as though you wish you were more like me…” your lover takes the fork from your hand and raises with his fingers your chin, so that you may properly meet his eyes for the first time this evening. “but when we love someone, we love them entirely for themselves, not whatever thing we’ve twisted them into to fit our own image. if that were the case—we’d only be loving the reflection of ourselves we find in them. is this not what you once told me, sweetheart?”

(i love you, in all your adorably jejune whimsies and nonsensical musings and humble tidings. i love the darling tears that cling to the round of your cheek and your great excitability and childish curiosity—all things i lack. and of all things i love your mad, devout love; so… please, please continue to love me as you do without fear of abandonment.)

perhaps, after all, it is okay that you are nothing like him and he is nothing like you. that you are diametric antitheses, like earth and air or diamond and pearl. your eyes falter under his gaze, body rigid in his arms as he manoeuvres you into his lap and presses his palms to your hot cheeks.

“please, i…” you weaken and he smiles and then you tremble and soften and melt and the tears finally bubble onto your face just as a white rose slips past its sheath.

like a baby, you sob—free of guilt and shame, it’s the only thing you know how to do when you’ve already spoken the words in your mind.

you press a palm to his chest, fingers splayed out over his heart, head tilted down and hair hiding yourself from him. though, he can still see; and you know he can, even if all that’s in your periphery are clouds and fuzz, wobbly pearls of dew that dribble down your face. he doesn’t ask you to look at him—he already knows why you weep. from catharsis or love or joy or heartache or gratitude… all of them at once or perhaps none of them at all.

“i-i’m really sorry for r-ruining dinner!” your voice is stuffy with sniffles and you hiccup in between your words, eyes squeezed shut awfully tight so that your nose crinkles. how sweet.

there you are again, little flower. al haitham spares you a smile that twists your heart as he leans in to brush his lips against yours, exchanging breaths. i’ve missed you. “you didn’t ruin anything. now—” with one hand, he holds you by the dip of your waist to press you to his chest and uses the other to gather a bite of tahchin on his fork, “you need to eat.”

at the hands of your lover, the tahchin is savoury and full of life on your tongue, nowhere near as nauseating and boorish as earlier. “isn’t it fascinating, haitham?” you part your lips to take another bite and hum softly as the spices flush you with warmth. “how the tahchin tastes so much more delicious now that you’re feeding it to me?”

he watches on in awe as you chew on your food, tiny little hiccups from tears unshed that occasionally rack your chest and fluster you, the ones that have dried coming off your face as gossamer flakes. they’re angel tears, he’s certain of that much.

“you have the cutest cheeks, you know…” your lover takes the fat of your cheeks between his thumb and index finger as you eat, gently squeezing and marvelling at the suppleness of your powdery skin. “baby's just like a bunny.”

“stop teasing…” you grasp his wrist gently, swallowing your food and sucking in your cheek to bite down on it bashfully, look the opposite way of prying eyes. they’re lidded and lazy and there’s a smile that lifts them up at the edges—his eyes, you see—but also his heart. because you just make him feel like that: organs and limbs loose and relaxed and thumping with his calm pulse, vision framed by a glowy pink haze as though he were laying on marble under the sun by the sea. everything sweet and wonderful in the world.

“even after all the moments we’ve shared…” he smirks and pinches your bottom lip, bringing you in close. “you’re still just as shy as though it were our first.”

you can't help but burst into a lovely little peal of giggles as he kisses you and pampers you, your tippy toes dusting the floor playfully and your fingertips curling strands of his hair. your cheeks are stuffed with warm food and your eyes burn with the crystalline that brims at your lower lashes when you swallow thickly, so you push back the tremble to your voice and bury it under his love stored in bite after bite of tahchin.

and even after your plate has been emptied and love is about to burst past the seams of your heart and your tummy, and you lay half-asleep atop him in a growing pool of moonlight—even after much of your aches and pains have been put to rest, al haitham still has yet to be completely satisfied, awaiting to be placated by one final thing.

“come, you must be tired,” he ties your hair for you, takes you by your hand, offers to wash the lingering fogs out of your soul. “should we bathe together before we sleep?”

al haitham’s touch is soft as he strips you of your clothing, kisses downwards of your clavicle after he removes your necklace—your wrist, your rib, your belly, your thigh. he knows just how you like your baths: window propped wide open to waft in the fragrance from blossoming peach trees and the sweet lulls of nightly birdsong, padisarah petals coasting across the water.

he prepares the room for you as such, swathing your frame between his long, broad limbs in the tub, too tiny for two, mind you. yet, he finds it to be a simple task to ignore the annoyance of the ledge digging into his spine when your body curls up against him like this, cheek pillowed by the plush of his chest and your arms draped ‘round his waist.

“you like holding me close, sweetheart?”

it’s a fun little poke at just how tight you cling to him, but truthfully, al haitham is all the same. a hand on the small of your back or warm fingers massaging your chilly nape—he finds the utmost comfort in feeling your skin on his, familiarity in the clouds of chantilly cream and sumeru rose that seem to linger about in the air around you.

perhaps he is just as clingy as you are, in how he cuddles you close to his chest and takes a book from the stool next to the bathtub, preparing to read to you from it.

and you listen intently—no matter how hard the throes of sleep try to whisk you away—to the flip of parchment, the birds keeping you company at the sill, the handsome cadence to your lover’s voice that makes your cheeks feel all bubbly, the beat of his heart dovetailing yours through your back.

he reads to you until the moon casts her light over the water through the window and your fingers are pruned—short fairytales about butterflies dancing on honey cups, maidens falling in love with talking roses—all from a certain emerald-covered book handed down to him from the only person to show him the same tender care you do.

the tension is dispelled from your shoulders, the barely there coil of anguish around you fully snapping and resolving into something lighter, entirely less murky. and as you sit there in his embrace, you feel your nose twitch and the backs of your eyes sting.

again! again, you cry! how lame you are in love, indeed, silly girl.

because al haitham is romantic in the way he silently cares for you like this, looks at you as though you’re extraordinarily lovely, the greatest bit of knowledge he’d ever be able to wrap his head around; touches you as if you were the most delicate of flowers.

which, you are, because how can you not blossom under his affection and grow a little love-struck?

“h-haitham?”

the words halt in his throat and he looks down at your face, or as much of it as he can make out when you’ve near buried it entirely into his neck. humming sweetly, he coaxes you on with lithe fingers slipping beneath the water’s surface to rub shapes into your doughy hip. “yes?”

“i love you…” you pick mindlessly at the emerald on his chest, let the words flow freely from the blubbering mess that has become of your voice— “i really love you, a whole lot.”—look up at him and smile toothily, plainly, eyes all watery and full of hope, promise, just like the child in you. “you love me a whole lot, too, don’t you?”

and what can he do but mirror your smile. because from it a picture of reassurance has been born, flooding and twisting and seizing his entire being. sometimes, most times, he doesn’t know how to behave when this thing, this wild love so eagerly breaks his body and pours without end into the hollow of his heart.

but it is a nice feeling, a sweet feeling: when you look at him like this and he thinks, perhaps, he could learn to love as freely as this too. all he has to do is look. it won’t be hard.

after all, everything he sees holds your darling smile within it.

tusm for reading!!! i hope this was able to bring some comfort for those who also have little fawn hearts .. and worry about their love being too all-consuming . im actually rllie embarrassed n nervous to be posting this fic bcos it means an awful lot to mi ૮꒰ྀི◞⸝⸝⸝⸝◟꒱ྀིა that being said , if you hav any comments to share please make sure they are only kind .. thanku ♡

#𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓯𝓸𝓵𝓭𝓮𝓻 ⑅˚˖ ݁ ˓ ෆ #alhaitham x reader #genshin x reader #al haitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #genshin drabbles #genshin imagines #alhaitham comfort #genshin comfort #haitham ❤︎

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rosicheeks · 2 years

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🤦🏽‍♀️

#one appointment done #now just 2 more #the funny thing is the first doctor gave me like an estimate of $700 #for what I need done #terrified of what the other doctors are going to say #I’m going to need like $2000 by the end of today #why is dental and health shit so EXPENSIVE #i just want to ya know live #but they are making it so incredibly difficult #obviously I would appreciate it if anyone was able to tip #but right now I just need pick me ups #send me some love #pics of your pets #anything #i have a little bit until my next appointment #so I need some distractions pls #shut up rosie

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estrellami-1 · 11 months

Text

If I Should Stay

Y’all are the best. Seriously. I love y’all. One quick note: if y’all reblog, please include the tag “#if I should stay” (mind the capital i) so people can find the rest of the parts! Thanks so much!!! ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Eddie does end up following Robin because he does not, in fact, have a death wish.

Even if, apparently, he dies in the future. Go figure.

She instructs him to grab his guitar. “Why in the fuck,” he starts, then reconsiders when Robin whips around to stare at him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re terrifying?”

Robin shrugs a shoulder. “Not as much as they should.”

She stashes her bike in the back of his van and directs him to the Harrington residence, where Steve’s waiting, arms crossed, wondering smile on his face. “Miracle worker,” he calls, and Robin laughs as she grabs her bike from the back.

“Hate to break it to ya, Dingus, but you’re just not scary.”

“I’m plenty scary. I’ve got a nail bat.”

“Right, because that would beat Nance’s sawed-off in a fight.”

“Hey, it could! You never know! They’ve got different ranges!”

Robin rolls her eyes at Eddie, like she’s asking if he can believe it, which. No. No he can’t.

“Sorry,” he says, regretting everything when they both look at him. “What the actual fuck is happening?”

“Come inside,” Steve says, suddenly all business. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.” His eyes find Robin’s. “One of ‘em took Barb last night.”

“Fuck,” Robin whispers.

“Yup. Will’s been missing for two days. Maybe, if we get down there soon enough…”

“Let’s hope so. Which one of the rugrats found El?”

“I think they all did? But Mike’s the one who took her in.” He shakes his head, mouth a grim line. “I saw Dustin today. They’re kids, Robs.”

“So are we,” she reminds him, heaving a tired-sounding sigh. “A buncha kids fighting real-life monsters.”

“Monsters?” Eddie parrots.

Somehow they end up inside while Steve goes to pick up the Party. Who the party is, Eddie doesn’t know. Just like he doesn’t know why he’s in Steve’s Harrington’s house with someone who isn’t Steve Harrington.

“Who’s the Party?” He asks Robin. “And why am I here again? If I die, doesn’t that mean I shouldn’t be here? Should be somewhere far, far away instead?”

“The Party’s a group of kids Steve babysits. They’re the first ones to go through this whole mess. And admittedly, you’re here partially because you can help, and partially for selfish reasons.” She offers him a lopsided grin. “Believe it or not, watching you die was kinda traumatic.”

“Right,” he says slowly. “And you and Steve? How do you know each other? He and Nancy Wheeler are the talk of the town, and if he’s stepping out-”

“He wouldn’t,” she says harshly. “Ever.” She takes a breath. “Two years from now, or a year ago, he and I work together in a mall. Long story short, we get captured and tortured by Russians. High on truth serum, I tell him I’m a lesbian in the bathroom, we help take down the big bad, and boom. Instant platonic soulmates.”

Eddie gapes at her. “What the fuck.”

“Just about,” she nods. “Oh, and the kids love D&D, so you’ll have plenty to talk about. They’re little shits but they’re also kinda great once you get to know them.”

Eddie stares at her. The front door opens, and Steve walks in, followed by a gaggle of preteens and Nancy Wheeler.

“Robs,” Steve says, not slowing his stride as he begins taking the stairs two at a time. “Bathroom. Now.”

Robin grimaces. “Breakdown time,” she murmurs to Eddie, then follows Steve, leaving everyone else staring at each other.

“So,” Eddie says. “I heard you like D&D?”

A dark-haired kid who looks suspiciously like Nancy narrows his eyes. “You play?”

“Play!” Eddie repeats. “I don’t just play, my young friend, I am the greatest Dungeon Master this side of the Mississippi.”

A curly-haired kid begins to grin. “I think we should put that to the test.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

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Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit

#if I should stay #eventual steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #he’s the curly-haired boy at the end #in case it wasn’t obvious lmao #time travel au #fix it fic #starambles

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satoruhour · 8 months

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full nelson w gojo or toji🤐

a/n: chose toji bc i have . a lot of gojo requests plus i havent written for toji in so long :3 also didnt know why i made this goofy and cute. enjoy!

warnings: fem!reader, pet names, implied orgasm denial, playful banter, fingering, clit stimlation, riding, full nelson, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

you were never one to hide your feelings and needs from toji — it was your advice at the end of the day where the assassin had confessed every single terrible thing he’s done and you still embraced him in the dingy motel under the fluorescent light. he had to do what he had to do even if his kills had terrified you a little—

but now he’s put all the assassin business behind him for a peaceful life with you where you showed him every ounce of the love he didn’t get to receive before.

you try your best to follow your own lesson — keep communication open and to be honest — but sometimes it was difficult with toji’s green eyes and hard stare boring into your eyes. they made you feel small and intimidated, something you always felt when you wanted to bring up something more intimate.

“you look like you’re constipated, kid, what’s up?” he asks without turning to you, possibly seeing your shaking hands from earlier. you can see the reflection of the television in his eyes and you‘re getting ready to speak . . that is until he turns to you.

toji raises an eyebrow, not missing the way your eyes dart down to his tongue licking his lips.

“u— uh, nothing, babe. all’s good.”

toji only hums and gets back to his baseball match, but surprises you a second later when he tugs on your waist. he smirks a little at your little yelp as you settle (or rather, were forced to) on his lap and he tilts his head, taunting you for your question.

“c’mon, spit it out. didn’t we promise to be honest?” your boyfriend questions, “and i’m not ’bout to run a therapy session—”

“iwanttotrysomethingwithyou.”

“slower, baby.” toji has a hand caressing your hip and the other blindly reaches for the TV remote, turning down the volume on the commentator’s annoying voice. he eases you into what you want to say.

“i want . . to try something.”

“in what sense? this better not be one more of your tiktok dance c—”

you giggle, “no! no, it isn’t that. i want to try . . the full nelson . . with you.”

toji clicks his tongue and you hate the heat on your cheeks once a smile spreads on his face because this was exactly the reason why you didn’t want to bring something up as embarrassing as this to him, because you could already see the amount of teasing he’d give you.

your moans descends into a complaint when toji yet again pulls his fingers away from your gaping hole, whining when you’re so close to your orgasm and yet he takes it away from you.

“tojiiii—!” you pout, grinding your hips into nothing while he enjoys the way you thrash around on bed and hope for something more than just his fingers in your cunt. not to mention, he’s been neglecting your clit, driving you to insanity on his fingers alone.

“want ya to cum on my dick, doll, ’m not that mean.” you roll your eyes, letting him devour your lips and manhandle you easily until you’re in reverse cowgirl.

he only nods towards his pelvis, “c’mon. ride me.”

your jaw drops — “first, you deny me my orgasm then you ask me to do all the work?” you know he’s truthful when he says he isn’t that mean, especially with how loving he is to you today, but this little teasing side of him still makes you grunt in annoyance. he has something up his sleeve, though.

you tsk, turning away from him and you can hear his smirk, possibly at your ass as you grope around for his cock for a few before you actually get it.

“man, shut up! i’m trying to find it.” you grumble, before finally getting it and he laughs — but it’s cut off. your playful banter is interrupted momentarily when you drag his tip along your folds and you smile upon toji’s hiss; and when you sink down you can feel your throat become dry, jaw dropping at how he stretches you out. you’re never used to it.

“t . . toji—” you squeeze his thighs, feeling his hands move to grab your ass and hips. he helps you bottom out, letting out a few grunts of his own. “feels s’good.”

“y—yeah? f-fuck . .” he swears when your hips start moving and you both can hear your drenched cunt from your delayed highs, each time increasing in volume from how you slam down onto his pelvis. toji can feel your arousal spurting everywhere, hips meeting yours halfway in needy movements.

you’re so drunk on his cock that you don’t realise the sheets turning wet with your cum, pressing harshly on toji’s thighs as you ride him. the other admires how your ass jiggles with each contact made with his crotch, alongside the beautiful moans that you let out.

you’re tired fast, thighs burning and heart pumping and you’d wish toji would take over already. he catches your drift soon enough, always observant as he meets your tired eyes. but he has to smile knowingly and your eyes widen when he prompts you backwards with his cock still in you.

“easy . .” he whispers as he brings your legs up to your ears like he would in a mating press, and even then, your eyes are already rolling back. your head falls on his shoulder in a shoot of pleasure, breath shaking with the first thrust he does.

this submission of power always sends you reeling — how toji slowly takes the upper hand from you by snapping his hips into yours as you stay limp above him. but it goes above that. toji locks his heands behind your head and you’re completely trapped.

“feel me in ya, doll?”

all your reply consisted of were moans and whimpers and a clench of your cunt, heating up when you feel his chuckle along your ear. “movin’ now, baby.”

you swear you see heaven when his shaft rams into you from below and toji groans into your ear. you were just so damn tight, pussy sucking him in that he has to take a minute before his hips properly move and you’re like a fuck toy. your tits bounce with each thrust and your limp body is held up by toji.

“you’re so . . fuckin’ wet, princess.” he mutters, wishing he could see your fucked out face at the position. from here, he can barely see your cunt, too, but if it’s what you want, he’ll happily fold you in half any day.

“toji, toji, toji,” is all you have in your brain, loving the way he impales you with each movement of his hips, feeling each vein on his throbbing, fat cock that you attempt to reach down to rub at your clit. he delivers a particularly hard thrust that has you mewling.

“don’t.” slowly he removes one hand, tuts when your leg starts to loosen. “keep it up for me baby, c’mon, yess . . that’s a good girl.” you listen like a dog to his owner, trying your best to keep your leg where it should be before you’re letting out a loud, almost pornographic moan. his fingers feel so rough against your clit, slapping it obscenely and noisily just as his hips never stop.

“you’re close, yeah?” toji whispers, thrusts starting to turn sloppy. his ass is aching along with his thighs, pleased when you nod. “then cum with me, dollface.”

his hand on your clit is ruthless, rubbing circles into it as his cock stretches you out like no other. it’s hitting so deep in you that you hardly have any coherent words, almost driven to your climax when you look down and you can see just how sloppy your pussy is, dripping all over his length and pelvis that there’s strings of your juices.

“give it t’me. cum all over my cock, baby.” is what pushes you over and your whole body shakes in his hold, vision turning white as you ride out your orgasm. his thrusts don’t stop, sending you into overstimulation when he ruts into you like a dog, finally cumming deep in you that his hot breath stains your neck. it’s hot and so much, painting your insides white with each ribbon of semen he releases in you.

there’s a filthy push of your cunt when he finally removes his cock from you, that drives out all the cum in you and you’re moaning lewdly when he uses his cock to slap your cunt; you hear just how wet your connected bodies are.

toji just chuckles when you grind down on his tip. “little cum dump just f’r me.”

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jakexneytiri · 7 months

Note

okay but dilf!jake hating your bf and when he’s fucking you hes making fun of you for hanging out w that boy

YUM. YES.

⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

“does he ever have you like this?” jake’s words come from above you, while his glistening skin smacks against yours in sharp, rough thrusts.

“does…he…hmmm?” you hum gently, too fucked out to fully think straight.

“does he make you feel this good? d’ya ever go dumb on his dick like this?” jake asks. he raises a calloused hand to grip your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.

your walls immediately clench around him, loving the feeling of his aggressiveness.

jake continues his rough pattern, rutting into you like he hasn’t fucked in weeks. except, it’s only been 24 hours.

desperate, filthy moans are the only noises escaping your lips, truly getting fucked dumb by your olo’eyktan.

“he’s- ohh, mmmm……..not you, if that’s what you’re asking.” you pant softly, inhaling sharp quick breaths.

“s’ not what i’m askin’. does. he. make. you. feel. good?” jake repeats himself, each pause delivering a sharp rut of his hips into yours.

“oh, fuck…” you whine, as his cock continues to repeatedly hit that perfect spongey spot inside you. “does neytiri make you feel this good?” you smirk, attempting to change the subject. sure, your boyfriend gets the job done eventually, even if you have to imagine him as jake to do so. but jake’s just…better. in every way. but you won’t dare admit that to him, his ego’s big enough as it is.

jake chuckles darkly, gripping your jaw so hard you’re swear it’ll leave bruises. “we’re not talkin’ about me, hon.”

a low grunt escapes his lips as the tip of his cock bulges just beneath your navel, earning a satisfied moan from you.

“does he fill you up like this? huh? does he even reach this spot of you, sweetheart?” jake’s thumb runs over the bulge, smirking as he looks over your body. “c’mon, what do you even see in him anyway? candy ass bitch. he’s small, isn’t he? that’s why you need a nice, thick cock like mine, yeah?” he questions, even though he already knows the answer.

“he…he’s…..nice!….and he….fucks me whenever i ask.” you moan out, eyes closed from the pleasure building deep in your womb.

“do you even come? how long does it take him, five minutes? ten?” he teases, smirking as he settles himself in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. “you shouldn’t have to ask, hon. ‘course he’s gonna say yes, who would be dumb enough to say no to you?” reaching his other hand up to your breast, he gives it a hard squeeze, thumb and index finger pinching your sensitive nipple.

“of course i come.” you state, eyes rolling back as you playfully shove at his chest.

“that right? i think if you did, you wouldn’t have my cock buried in your cunt right now, baby.” jake smirks as he says this.

“and he’s terrible in training. tuk could shoot better than he does. then again, can’t blame him if he’s thinkin’ about this sweet pussy all day…..” raising his thumb to his lips, jake sweeps his tongue across the calloused skin, lowering it back down to press against your sensitive clit. slowly, his thumb works in circles as his cock continues to abuse your cunt.

jake feels your walls clamp around him, groaning as his thrusts begin to pick up an even faster rhythm. “jesus, baby. you keep squeezin’ me like that and i might just send you back to that loser with my load inside ‘ya.”

“do it. see what he does.” you pant, challenging him. but jake just smirks and shakes his head.

“kid’s terrified of me. won’t even make eye contact during training. maybe i should mention what a good fuck his little girlfriend is, hm?”

“ohhh, fuck. shut up and fuck me!” you plea desperately, clinging to the nape of jake’s neck.

“so filthy when i’m fuckin’ you dumb, huh? is that any way to ask?” jake tsks, slowly pulling out of you.

“nonono! i’m s-so close, please!” you beg, thrusting your hips upwards in a desperate attempt for jake to slide himself back in.

he just shakes his head as he grabs your hips firmly, turning you over onto your stomach. his fingers dig into the skin on your hips as he raises them up. he grips his cock, tapping the tip of it against your abused hole before he plunges back inside of you.

you let out a loud moan as jake uses one hand to hold your hands behind your back, while the other grips your queue, allowing your back to arch just the way he likes.

the sensation of pain and pleasure is too much for you as your orgasm rips through you, violently shaking and coming undone on jake’s cock. all he needed was to feel your walls fluttering against him to come undone, as well. hot, thick seed coats your womb, filling you so deep you begin to feel bloated from how full you are.

jake continues to ride out his release, mumbling soft “fuck”s while his seed fills you completely. once he’s positive he’s emptied himself entirely, he pulls out of your abused hole ever so gently, watching his seed seep out. “fuck, i love this view. wishin’ i had my camera right about now.”

you just slump against the forest floor, nodding and mumbling nonsense, truly too fucked out now.

jake chuckles, grabbing your loincloth to lace back up first before tying his own. “same time tomorrow?”

you smirk, as he helps you to your feet. “if you’re lucky, old man.”

#jake sully smut #avatar jake smut #dilf jake smut #jake sully x reader smut #avatar jake sully x reader #jake sully fanfiction #jake sully x reader #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x you #jake sully fanfic #jake sully x na'vi reader #dilf jake sully #dilf! jake sully #dilf!jake sully #daddy pookie <3 #daddy jake sully

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princessbrunette · 4 months

Note

thinking ab their pretty little gf w a not so stellar home life comin back to the chateau in tears, tryin to explain what happened but she's simply just a blubbering mess. the duology of jayj who's ready to give your old man a taste of his medicine vs daddy!john bee who's a little more levelheaded n thinking rationally. saying smth like 'just wanna forget' would have those two jumping to your aid - 🍓

₊˚⊹♡𐙚♡𓆪ֶָ֢

“yup, i’m gonna kill him. murder him in cold blood.”

“you are not going to kill her dad, jj.”

whilst the blonde paces, developing a routine of yanking his cap off his head, running a hand through matted tresses before placing it back on— john b, the more level headed of the two kneels by your side, a gentle hand on your back.

you’d been crying, infact — you cried all the way to the chateau after an explosive spat with your terrifying father. it just didn’t feel fair, how can some people have the privilege of feeling totally safe and welcomed in their own home, by their own family — but you had to suffer? you felt in despair, just wanting everything happening outside of the chateau to stop.

“dude i’m tired of this asshole actin’ like — like he can just mess her around and scare her, look at her john b she’s scared!” jj rages, trying to bring his voice into a whisper-yell despite you being right there, stopping his pacing to direct his anger at the brunette by your side.

“i know, but right now you just need to calm it down. i doubt she wants you to go all john wick on her dad. sit down.” your face is in your hands as you weep, so you miss the way john b’s eyes widen in warning to jj, a silent message for him to quit acting out. the blonde licks his lips, shaking his head feeling like he was totally justified, but he does as he says regardless, lowering himself to sit at your other side.

“how ya holding up, princess?” he finally speaks, scratching the back of your head like a puppy. you remove your clammy hands from your face, staring down at them once they hang in your lap.

“s’just not fair.” you rasp, and you feel john b nodding at your side. you daren’t look at him, his large concerned puppy dog eyes sure to set off your waterworks once again so you look at jj instead, almost looking for solidarity. if anyone understood your home life situation, it was him.

his brows are all creased up sorrowfully and he presses his lips together, thumbing the freshest tear that dares to race down your cheek. you feel john b rest his chin on your shoulder, wanting you to feel his presence even when you didn’t face him.

“what can we do?” his warm voice rumbles right in your ear.

at first, you don’t know — and that look of hopelessness in your eyes almost cracks jj’s heart in two. he knew from experience how shitty it felt— but seeing it from the third person perspective was almost worse. he would take a million beatings from his dad if it meant no one was to ever lay a hand or throw a venomous word in your direction. “anything, babydoll.” he reiterates.

as fucked up as it is, having two male figures at your side— two who you’d like to think held a comfortable amount of authority over you, a small slither of the hole that was left in your heart from your daddy issues was filled with a warm honey-like feeling. maybe your emotions were all fucked up and out of whack, or maybe you just really appreciated the comfort — because you felt that warmth spread lower at the way they coddled you.

“i just wanna forget. wanna forget it all happened.” you whisper, and at first they don’t get it. well, they do— but not in the way you mean. john b’s hand creeps up to massage at the back of your neck, trying to relax you as he nods, frowning as he tries to piece together what he can do. always the fixer.

“okay, we can do that. what… specifically do you—”

“i need you.” you turn to look at him now, faces close, breath mingling. “i need you both to… make me forget. just don’t wanna think.” your whisper holds a tinge of an oncoming mewl to it and their faces melt in understanding.

“oh, baby.” john b coo’s, catching on and you feel yourself physically already starting to melt at the tone.

“that mean what i think it means?” jj’s breath is at your neck, fingers sliding up your arm to the strap of your tank top. slowly, carefully.

“please jus’ make me feel better.” you slur like the effects of a drug are finally kicking in, the two boys seeming to close in on you more by the minute.

“alright baby. daddies gonna help, okay? gonna make it feel better.” john b cups your cheek and you wring weakly at his wrist, pulling his palm to your wet mouth where you press kisses to the warm coarse skin, a silent plea to follow through.

jj’s mouth follows his touch next, a kiss on the junction between your neck and shoulder, wisps of blonde hair sticking out the front of his cap tickling your cheekbone. “i should’a known that’s what you were after, you want that head all empty don’t you mama?”

like that, you’re putty in their hands.

₊˚⊹♡𐙚♡𓆪ֶָ֢

#🍓 anon #jj x reader x john b

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parrythisucasual · 7 months

Text

What About Me? Ch. 1

___HERES THE STORY SO FAR!!! NOT BETA READ SORRYYYYY___

PAIRING- JAX X READER (ROMANTIC)

Something is wrong. This isn't right. You were just lying in bed, starting a new VR game. Where are you now? There’s… music playing. Chipper, happy music. And every single color is like your mom’s phone screen- full-on brightness. You blink a few times, staring around. There’s a group of people… But they aren't people, exactly. They seem more like children's toys.

You're suddenly feeling very, very overwhelmed. You can feel your body shaking as panic punches you hard in the gut. You’re going to scream, you're going to have a breakdown, you're going to-

“Where am I?” Oh. Well, that wasn’t so bad. Until the motley group turns and looks at you. The fear only rises as a doll woman steps closer to you “Another one? But Pomni just got here last week…” You blink, utterly dumbfounded. She spoke to you. You can understand her.

“Who are you?” a second question makes its way past your lips, your mind searching desperately for some kind of clarity. “This one’s taking it pretty well. Unless you count the crying.” another voice piped up as a purple rabbit sauntered over, stopping right next to you, “at least they aren't screaming like someone did when she got here.”

“Jax!” the doll snapped at the rabbit, “I’m sorry about him, he’s just a bully. I’m Ragatha.” she gently placed an arm over your shoulder, causing a small bit of relief to flood through you. Something grounding. “I know this is really scary and off-putting, but I promise you’ll be okay.”

“Except you can never leave.” Jax’s smile widened. Your heart dropped rather suddenly “N-never leave?” you asked, looking from Jax to Ragatha. “Afraid not, my dear!” a third voice, a rather loud one, came to your attention. You turned to see who this could be and almost jumped out of your skin.

A set of teeth with bulging eyes staring at you, hovering a few feet in the air, “Welcome to the Amazing Digital Circus! I’m your ringmaster, Caine!” he greeted enthusiastically, spreading his arms in a display of showmanship. You think you’ve had enough.

Reaching to your face, you try to pull the headset off. But… it's not there. It’s just your face. But it doesn't feel like your face. It feels like a soft silicone rubber, almost like the Gumby toy you’d had as a kid. “It’s not there!” you yelp, now simply holding your own head.

“It’s okay, I promise you’re okay,” Ragatha gently reached over and took your hands from your head, “Just take a breath, okay?” You nodded, taking a deep breath and relaxing a bit, “Why isn’t it here?”

“Who knows? You’re stuck either way, why bother thinkin’ about it?” Jax walked past you, shrugging. You can already feel a twinge of anger at this… man? Rabbit? You’re clearly terrified and he can’t bother being kind for one second?

Oddly, that anger only serves to calm you more. You ignore him and turn back to Ragatha, “Okay. I’m stuck here… in the circus… we can’t leave. You’re Ragatha. That's Jax. That’s Caine,” you list your knowledge, nodding with each statement. A small smile spread across her face, “Exactly.”

Nodding, you glance to the other circus members “What about… them?” you ask. Ragatha points to each member “This is Zooble, that’s Gangle, there’s Pomni,” she gestures to a pile of pillows, “Kinger is in there.” You made a mental note of each, making sure to introduce yourself later.

“Ya know, it's kind of refreshing not having to deal with some crybaby freakin’ out on us,” Jax mused, waving a finger in your general direction. The anger twinged once more, and before you could stop it, a realtor shot from your lips, “It would be refreshing if you shut your mouth. Nobody wants to hear your opinion.”

Shock spread across his face momentarily, then he frowned “I don’t care what anybody wants to hear or not. I say whatever I want to.” Ragathe interrupted suddenly, “OKAY! Let’s not fight… Um, what did you say you wanted us to call you?”

“I didn’t say. I’m- uh… My name…” you couldn’t remember. Terror gripped your chest once more. You could see Jax smiling, and that only worsened it. They knew you wouldn’t know. You pressed the anger back. No fighting.

“Um… just… just call me (Y/N),” you spoke quickly, taking the name off the top of your head. With a nod, Ragatha smiled, “Alright. Well, welcome to the circus, (Y/N).” You couslnt help but return the grin. She was too kind, making you feel so welcome.

“Why don’t I show you your bedroom, then?” she offered, “if you’d like me to?” “Sure,” you accepted, following her away from the group. You couldn’t help but notice Jax staring at you as you left. Something about his face made you feel off. You couldn't place it, maybe he was angry? But it didn’t feel like he was. Oh well. You could deal with that later. For now, you focused on getting to your room, getting settled, and simply taking in your situation. After all… you were here to stay, weren’t you?

______HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!! ANY IDEAS?? SUGGESTIONS??? COMMENT!!! WANT TO CHAT??? DM!!!!___________

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #jax #jax x reader #tadc jax #tadc jax x reader #tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus jax

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 1 month

Text

Angel Dust: “D’ya ever get a weird feelin’ about this place?”

Husk: “Yeah. Sweet an sickening. Like fucking syrup.”

Angel Dust: “NEVER fuck usin’ syrup UGH.”

Niffty: “I think the floor right under the second story banister railings feels weirdest! Almost bouncy when you SMASH into it!”

Angel Dust: “Not what I meant, NFT. It’s more like-”

SOMETHING: (blurs past the open door behind them)

Door: (...crreeeeks softly on it’s hinges...)

Them: (turns and stare)

Angel Dust: “…it’s like, a cold draft, innit?”

Husk: (spooked) (fur fluffed) “Cheap as fuck place. Run down.”

Niffty: “Prime roach real estate!”

Angel Dust: “Unsettlin’. The word I’m lookin’ for is, unsettlin’.”

EYES: (blink open and glow in the shadowy corner above them.)

Angel Dust: “Creepy, even.”

EYES: (rotate 360 degrees) (still staring)

Angel Dust: “I dunno. Don’t ya just get the shivers sometimes in here? Brr.” (shudders)

Husk: “Guess the eternal pep can be kinda fucked up from the owner. No one in hell is really that fucking happy all the fucking time.”

Niffty: “I AM!!!”

Husk: “No one who’s not fucking Niffty is that happy in hell.”

Niffty: “I LOVE it here. You only got to die ONCE back in the living world.”

Angel Dust: “Once should be enough for anyone, Niffters.”

Niffty: (giggling) “Not for me! Not when it's comes to eating spiders.”

Husk: “Oh FUCK that-”

Niffty: “Think the thing watching us right now also eats spiders?”

Husk: “…”

Angel Dust: “…”

EYES: (blink) (vanish)

The Three of Them: (turn and stare)

Angel Dust: “….Husker? Any room in ya bed for guy who doesn’t wanna be alone tonight?”

Husk: “Fuck no. Anyone tries getting in my room tonight is being served a motherfucking Molotov cocktail on the house.”

Angel Dust: “I can make it worth ya while. Tire us both out so’s maybe we can get some actual sleep.”

Husk: “You think I’m gonna fucking sleep?”

Niffty: “Sometimes I eat the spiders in my sleep…”

Husk: “Niffty, I need you fucking shut up talking in that creepy little girl voice.”

Niffty: “Okay! But whyyyy~?”

Husk: “THAT’S fucking WHY.”

Angel Dust: “-shh! SHH SHHHH! D’ya hear that!?”

Husk: “Wh- don’t fucking touch me-”

Angel Dust: (strangling him a little with holding) “Husk holy shit!”

Husk: (claws out) (super floofed) “What? WHAT??”

Niffty: “Ohhh…..”

Angel Dust: “It’s COMIN’!”

Niffty: “Nooo it’s naaaw-auuuught~”

Husk: “WELL WHICH THE FUCK IS IT-!?”

Niffty: “It’s Here~”

SOMETHING: (drops in from the open window)

Them: (SCREAM)

Vaggie: “Have you guys seen- Stop screaming it’s just me- have any of you seen Charlie around?”

Husk: “FUCK! FUCK!!!”

Angel Dust: “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, MISS I CUNT USE THE FREAKING DOORS!”

Husk: “FUUUCK ME FUCK YOU FUCK ALL OF THIS-”

Niffty: “Aww.” (slumps) “Hi Vaggie….”

Vaggie: “Yeah hey… What’s got into you all?”

Angel Dust: “Into US? YoU-”

Niffty: “We’ve been terrified. It’s been fun!”

Husk: “YOUR FUCKING SHIT HOTEL IS FUCKING HAUNTED! Shit!”

Angel Dust: “You and ya rich girlfriend have hell’s worst unpaying guest creepin’ around, and ya wonder what’s up with US?!?!”

Vaggie: “Oh. So you have seen her.”

Niffty: “Ohhh…! It’s a her!”

Angel Dust: “HER WHO WHO HER YOU KNOW THE WHORE OF HAUNTING?”

Vaggie: “Sure. And don’t fucking call her that.”

Husk: “I don’t wanna fucking know I don’t wanna fucking know I don’t wanna I don’t wanna no no no fuck NO-”

Vaggie: (rolls eye)

Vaggie: “Sweetie? Can you stop with the friendship notes and come out now?”

Something: (from shadows) “I’m bi!”

Vaggie: (smiles) “Out in the open where they can see you, babe.”

Charlie: “Aww, Vaggieeee…” (slips out of shadows with notebook and pout) “You’re messing with the sterile observed conditions and data collection. They were bonding!”

Angel Dust: “TOOTS!?”

Husk: “Oh.. fuck… you.”

Vaggie: “They sure were clinging to each other at least.”

Husk: “Fuck you MORE I fucking wasn’t.”

Angel Dust: “TOOTS I THOUGHT I WAS GONNA DIE!”

Vaggie: “Weren’t stopping him from climbing you like a tree though, were you?”

Charlie: “Sorry about that, Angel Dust. I just got so excited-”

Husk: “Get. Fucked.”

Vaggie: “My girlfriend takes care of that already thanks.”

Angel Dust: “EXCITED? To be stalkin’ a guy like he’s a freaking gazelle on a shitty nature doc that skips all the fucking an’ only shows the non-sexy rippin’ an tearin’ an eatin’ alive bits!?”

Charlie: “Well-”

Niffty: “Hi Charlie! Were you watching us like bugs in a bug trap? Right before they get SQUISHED?”

Charlie: “-um no. No I wasn’t-”

Niffty: “Awww why nooooooooot?”

Charlie: “I wasn’t... trying to?”

Husk: “Oh that’s not fucking terrifying to fucking hear.”

Angel Dust: “TRY HARDER NOT TO NEXT TIME! Ugh! I’m too shaky to even make a hardness pun- AND I think this gave me STRESS WRINKLES. I WORK WITH THIS FACE! Among other body parts- I cannot fucking AFFORD wrinkles, Charmeleon!”

Charlie: “Aw guys I’m sorry! I just saw you three chatting together and.” (waves notebook) “Y’know?”

Vaggie: “I know, babe.”

Angel Dust: “NO!?”

Husk: “Fuck. No.”

Niffty: “Nope! I would’ve gone STRAIGHT into hunt and kill mode!”

Husk: “Which is what it fucking FELT like you fucking did.”

Charlie: “Ooookay then, my bad. But! You all feel better now you know it was just me, right?”

Them: “….”

Charlie: “B- because you know I’d never actually hunt any of your through the halls of my hotel. Right?”

Them: “……”

Charlie: “…you, you guys know you’re safe here and I didn’t bring you here for some fucked up creepy personal murder torture reason… right…?”

Them: “……….”

Niffty: (raises hand) “I-”

Charlie: “NIFFTY THANK YOU!! See? She believes-”

Niffty: “I felt really GREAT thinking you were hunting me for sport! Can I go back to thinking that?”

Charlie: “-that, you, oh. No that’s-” (droops) “…sure … whatever makes you happy, Niffty.”

Niffty: “YAY FEAR!” (hugs Charlie’s knees) (skitters away)

Angel Dust: “Oh yippie. Getting’ high off my ass and blackin’ all this out from my memory will make ME happy.” (flounces off) “Sweet dreams, toots! I sure as hell won’t be havin’ ‘em!”

Charlie: “I’m sor-”

Husk: “Anyone fucking needs me, don’t.”

Charlie: “Husk, I really-”

Husk: (already gone)

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “….. fuck.”

Vaggie: “It’ll be fine.” (pats Charlie gently) “Don’t freak out about it. They’re just, shook up.”

Charlie: (tired) “Except Niffty.”

Vaggie: “Niffty’s uhhh, she seems like the exception to most things yeah.”

Charlie: “She likes being scared of me.”

Vaggie: “Well. Thrilled? By you? I mean she gets her kicks out of it, so…”

Charlie: “I don’t like being scary.”

Vaggie: “You’re not.”

Charlie: “I scared them.”

Vaggie: “Startled and creeped out a little. It’s not the same thing.”

Charlie: “Isn’t it? I’m- I hate that I'm-”

Vaggie: “No.”

Charlie: “Vaggie.”

Vaggie: “You. Are. Not.”

Charlie: “But-”

Vaggie: (takes hand) “You’re a lot of things, Charlie Morningstar. Sometimes you’re a lot of those lot of things- which I love-”

Charlie: “Heh.”

Vaggie: “But being scary just by existing? Isn’t one of them. You can be you, all the way, the whole demon princess Charlie package- and not scare anyone. I promise."

Charlie: "Tell that to my ex..."

Vaggie: "I'll carve it into his stupid fucking skull- kidding! I'm kidding."

Charlie: "I'd believe that more if you hadn't already tried."

Vaggie: "Well believe me NOW when I'm trying to say- You can get scary when someone you love is hurt or threatened, sure. That's, not a bad thing. There's nothing about you that you need to hide to have people in your life. Living with you, every part of you, is great."

Charlie: "....."

Vaggie: "Charlie c'mon- I should know. If we’re talking observed data and stuff, I’ve already got three years of it. Right?”

Charlie: “…right.” (weak smile) “I did it again though, didn’t I?”

Vaggie: “What, the intensely following around someone you’ve invited into your home trying to figure out how to make them feel more comfortable without bothering them or spooking them, working hard not to let them see how you spend hours just staring at them, taking in every little detail you can, but staring so hard they can feel it on the back of their neck anyway?”

Charlie: “And you’re sure that’s not scary. Like at all.”

Vaggie: “I always thought is was cute. Intense and a kinda worrying sign of how alone you’d been, sure, but cute.”

Charlie: “Hmph.”

Vaggie: (leans up to smooch her) “And our hazbins will too. Just give ‘em time.”

Charlie: “Our hazbins?” (grins) “Our? Oh now THAT’S cute.” (opens book and scribbles note) “Today… Vaggie.. bonded with…”

Vaggie: “I did not.”

Charlie: “…OUR- underline underline add some hearts- hazbins!”

Vaggie: “Charlie I didn’t. I barely even spoke with them.”

Charlie: “You’re comparing them to your past self and making connections between you when we first met and them now, aren’t you. You’re empathizing with them! That’s bonding! That’s ADORABLE!!”

Vaggie: (sigh) “That’s my cue to drag you off to bed.”

Charlie: “You’re adorable~”

Vaggie: “Says the cute demon lady lovingly stalking her new friends.”

Charlie: “Do you think they’ll be friends with me? I mean I’m friends with them, but-”

Vaggie: “Charlie, they’ve met you. It’s inevitable.”

Charlie: “Heheh. Juuuust like this kiss~”

(smooch)

(smooch some more)

Vaggie: “Whoa there!” (chuckling) “Save it for the bed sweetie, or we’ll never get there.”

Charlie: (giggling) “Sorry. I’m not used to not having everything all to ourselves. And I suppose making out in the public areas wouldn’t be very polite, even in the middle of the night with no one around.”

Vaggie: “Probably. We’ve freaked them out enough for one day I think.”

Charlie: “There are definite downsides to having a hotel with actual other people living in it, huh….”

Vaggie: “Worth it?”

Charlie: “Mm. I hope so. I hope they’ll think so too.”

Vaggie: “They will, babe. They will.”

-Next Night-

-Alastor’s Radio Tower-

Alastor: (humming and happily prepping the next track for broadcast)

SOMETHING: (slowly rises up beyond the window behind him)

Alastor: (ears twitch) (adjust audio balance knob)

SOMETHING: (presses against window)

Window: (Distinctive flesh-dragging-across-glass sound)

Alastor: (stops)

SOMETHING: (fades into shadows)

Alastor: (turns)

Window: (has smudge mark on it)

Alastor: “….hmm…” (walks over) (wipes window) (smudge stays bc it’s on the outside) “Interesting...”

Alastor: (goes back to disc jockeying)

SOMETHING: (reaches up and drags finger through smudge mark)

Alastor: (stops and turns)

Alastor: “Ohoho? My my my, now isn’t THIS just droll! Who COULD have left a message here for me. On my own radio tower! Smudging my glass! (smirks and walks over) “Hmm? Something dire and THREATENING no doubt? Not something they will REGRET I am SURE ha ha ha!”

Alastor: (bends down to read) “It appears to say…”

Window: (smudge has the word ‘FRIENDS’ written through it)

Alastor: (snaps back upright) (stares) (steps back) (stares harder)

Alastor: “…how… amusing.”

Alastor: (goes back to control panel)

Alastor: “….”

Alastor: (relaxes) (picks up microphone and holds it casually at the ready)

Alastor: (reaches for a record-)

SOMETHING: (slips past window behind him)

Alastor: (turning) (Shrieking) “KKKKSSSSSSSSFKKKSST” (yeets record out through window)

Window: (shatters)

Vaggie: “….”

Vaggie: “….hope that one wasn’t important, pendejo. It’s on the first floor now. In about a hundred pieces.”

Alastor: (lowering microphone) “Oh my dear I DO apologize!” (simpering) (Glowering) “Poor thing. Not hurt, are you? Not frightened at all I hope? Really I don’t know WHAT would have happened if I had happened to HIT you!”

Vaggie: “Me frightened? No.” (tosses cleaning rag over shoulder) “The scary little smudge is gone anyway, so I’m off. Bye.”

Alastor: “Oh delightful! You KNOW ABOUT-”

Vaggie: (gone)

Alastor: “……hmmmmmm….”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “She’s so hot when she’s all ‘doesn’t even blink when something almost would've decapitated her if she hadn’t casually leaned back’ isn’t she?”

Alastor: (shriek is broadcast all over Pentagram city, shattering the remaining windows in his radio tower)

#hazbin hotel #chaggie #charlie morningstar #vaggie #angel dust hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #niffty hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #incorrect quotes #utter silliness #the new hotel residents getting used to living with the princess of hell #who isn't scary bc of the hell princess thing #but because #well #.....#charlie MEANS well....#she's very VERY passionate #about meaning well

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hxltic · 1 year

Text

• established relationship

•Genre: smut

You’re in the lonesome bathroom of the party correcting your makeup when Rin suddenly makes his way through the door. He hastily closes it behind him. How it wasn’t locked? You have no idea.

You expected his arrival, just not as grand as this. It wasn’t new. It wasn’t new to always call and find each other as if seeking refuge. The mirror reflects his hands trudging up his face to brush through his hair, meanwhile the mascara wand waved idly in your hand when you quipped, “Who ya running from?”

A course “Nobody” was all you received. You thought he’d just come in and sit on the toilet seat to talk or waste time with you.

Finding a stopping point, you turned to him and your fresh eyes trailed his body leaning on the door. He looked paler than usual, dark hair falling over his weaker, heavily red-tinted face. The mascara clicked into the bottle and tightened as you twisted.

“Rin are…are you okay?”

He sighed and one hand fell to the doorknob while the other fell to his pocket.

“…If I’m being completely honest, no. Come here please,” he huffed out. He was breathless like he rushed up here to you. You guess it was a random call from him that you put on speaker over the trap music, however, you didn’t ask why he needed to see you so instantaneously.

You took slow, incredulous footsteps forward to his chest in the already tight space. Clearly you weren’t fast enough because he cupped your face—both hands—and tugged you close.

“Look at me,” he ordered. Your eyes focused on each of his earnestly. “You know I love you right?”

“Yes.” A distrusting countenance slowly morphed onto your face, matching your previous steps.

“You know you look so fucking good, right?”

“…Rin where is this-“

“-I think my drink was spiked. My drink was spiked with something and I’m saying I’m sorry now because I am just one fucking word away from bending you over this counter. It needs to be yours.”

Your cheeks flushed red as you examined his face again, confirming he did look a little sick. Except not the coughing sick; the lightheaded, desperate need that can make you delusional sick. You were terrified to look down.

“But won’t that stuff still be in your system? you need to throw it up or something before-“

“I can’t be sure but it doesn’t feel out of the ordinary, like a viagra or something. I’ll do whatever you want after. Just need to be inside of you in the next ten seconds before I pass out.”

He was rambling in a pitch slightly higher than usual, desperation seeping off his words. His chest motioned up and down with each difficult breath he took gazing into your eyes, upturned brows not-very-patiently awaiting your response. Hey, it was a party after all.

You kept your eyes trained but turned to give yourself up to him.

The slim eyes lit up. A single palm forced you down by the middle of your upper back, effectively bending you over. He did it so swiftly you could’ve taken it as routine.

Hands situated and caressed your waist in admiration, hips following suit as you pressed them back into him. His fingertips dug holes through the sequin covered fabric and into your skin, the obvious print rubbed right between your legs with the dress flipped up, and the friction was sending him away.

Oh god he needed it so bad, all his hormones at peak and the first thing on his mind being you. He knew he needed to stretch you out and he knew how especially good that pretty pussy would taste spread for him on the counter, but his dick was quite literally throbbing.

He may have realized it a little late considering he had a high sex-drive anyway, but this was something completely different. He was so hard it hurt. So when he called you, shoving through people as you gave him your location in the house, he was already overheating from swarming throngs of people and the alcohol swimming through his blood.

So when your slit rolled perfectly over him he had to undo his pants immediately.

“I can leave it to you to wear no panties to a party.”

“Gotta give ‘em a show,” you giggle.

With the clank of his belt and its drop to the floor, he taunted, “Only one of us is taking the show home.”

Suna was already a pretty impatient person, so when a finger dipped into you slow and welcoming he had to add another. A squelch sound came from the way he pumped into you as if you were already ready to take him.

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu hcs #god i want him so bad #suna rintaro #suna x reader #haikyuu suna #suna headcanons #suna imagines #suna smut #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintarō #suna haikyuu #rintarou suna #suna rintaro x reader

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miercoooles · 8 months

Note

Leclerc! Sister and her brothers definitely have sweet sibling evenings which ends with all four passed out and Pascale sending the pictures to their partners who then cue at them.

ya know, I haven’t answered your last ask because i’m procrastinating it, so I’ll give you this one

When you and your brothers were growing up, Pascale made sure to make it a habit that you have a family day every week. Meaning no matter how busy you are, whether it be school or work, you have to make a free time and spend it with the rest of the family. And let’s just say Pascale was successful in keeping that habit alive now that you are all adults.

It was early Tuesday morning when you, Charles, and Arthur arrived home in Monaco for a break since the race tired all of you out. Your significant other (any driver) couldn’t accompany you because he was needed back in their headquarters while Charles’ gf had her own errand. You quietly entered your home as you knew your mum and Lorenzo were sleeping. You kissed your younger brothers good night before retiring to your own bedroom.

Sighing softly as you closed your door, you leaned against it, taking soft and steady breaths as you knew what was gonna happen today. You loved family days, it was everything. You and your siblings bonding, chatting, spilling teas, even arguing about everything while Maman just watched is everything. But sometimes life could drain you especially when you had an awful race week. So freshening yourself up, you slid under the comfort of your duvet and snuggling on your pillow as you slowly drifted to slumber.

A few hours after, you were awakened by shouting and arguing downstairs which signalled you to get up already. You grumbled to yourself about your sleeping getting cut short before preparing yourself then heading out downstairs. Dragging your legs to the kitchen, you were greeted by Lorenzo and Charles fighting what they should make the four of you for breakfast, and being to tired to join them, you pushed past them and started cooking, doing it yourself.

The two started protesting until you raised one hand while the other cracked eggs into the pan. They both shut up and you mentally sighed in relief as you instructed them to fix the dining table and wake up Maman and Arthur. Both of them being to scared to argue, followed immediately.

Even though Lorenzo is the eldest out of the four of you, he was terrified of you, and you had never found out why. But honestly, it was funny to your side, watching your supposedly other brother scrambling and scared of you whenever you’re pissed or not in the mood.

Finishing what you were cooking, you served them on the dining table right on time as Maman and Arthur walked down the steps, Charles and Lorenzo following behavely behind them. Sitting down on your respective chairs with Pascale in the middle, you all said your prayers before digging in on your food. The first to speak up was Arthur complimenting your cooking while the two others stayed quiet.

Maman noticing something was up, she immediately brought it up and you started explaining what happened so early in the morning. Pascale only sighed, wondering to herself why the four of you always gets into a fight with each other when you all grew close and sweet to one another.

Maman stood up as she finished her food before announcing that she was going out. The four of you looked at her in disbelief before raising your concern how it was suppose to be family day today and that she should be here. But she was having none of it, shutting all of you down before going upstairs.

Completely shunned, you leaned on your backseat, your shoulders sagging, your three brothers doing completely the same clearly disappointed. All of you stayed in the same spot, not moving one inch as Maman bid you good bye, shutting the door behind her.

Minutes passed and none of you did anything as silence filled the whole house, until you felt your stomach grumble. So you sat back up and finished your meal before putting your plate in the sink and going to the living room, shouting behind you that the last one to finish their food will be the one responsible for washing all the plates and utensils used.

As soon as you finished what you were saying, you heard spoons and forks clinking with each other as the three started competing with each other other. Laughing to yourself, you reminded them to slow down and chew their food properly as you sat comfortably on the couch.

The two that came out of the dining room was Arthur and Lorenzo, meaning that the one left in the other room complaining was none other than your fellow middle sibling, Charles. You laughed to yourself as you switched the telly on while Arthur sat to your left and Lorenzo on the solo sofa. So when Charles finished his chore, he sat to your right, making you sandwiched between your two younger siblings.

Finally choosing something to watch, the four of you sat in silence as you focused on the film, sometimes making comments and starting a discussion about the movie. After the movie, the four of you decided to play the simulator competing with one another. You decided to call each other as you were in your respective rooms, playing on your own different set up. As you all played against each other, you accidentally hit Arthur’s rear and he got pissed that both of you started a discourse that heated up.

You and Arthur rarely had fights, but when you both did get into one, it was the worst that could happen. A lot of different things can be brought up when you both fought, so before it escalated, Lorenzo and Charles dropped their games and headed to each of your room, stopping both of you from talking.

Hours has passed by and it was almost sun down when you and Arthur calmed down and made peace with one another. That was when Lorenzo suggested, you all go to your secret hideout where all of you watched the sun as it set when you were younger.

Agreeing almost immediately, the four of you hiked for a while as you reached your secret spot. It was a small, abandoned building that was built in an elevated part of the country, high enough to look over the ocean. When you reached the highest floor, the four of you sat on the edge of the structure, you in the middle of Charles and Arthur again, while Lorenzo sat beside Arthur.

As the sun began meeting the ocean, you leaned on your head on Charles’ shoulder, reaching out for his hand and squeezing it in a sisterly, assuring kinda way. Charles gave you a soft smile as both of you had a silent connection being the middle child and all.

While watching the view, you all started talking about memories you all cherished, laughing and teasing one another as cringe memories were brought up. And when the sun finally disappeared against the horizon and the moon came out to brighten the dark sky, the four of you lie down on the roof, pointing at the stars and still reminiscing about your life as kids.

Lorenzo realising how late it was and how the three of you still have flights the next day, decided to wrap it up. You, Charles, and Arthur wanted to protest but you understood that your older brother, so you all followed him.

Arriving home, you immediately went straight to your bedroom and hopping on your bed as you quickly started dozing off. But it was shortly disturbed when Charles jumped on your bed too, followed by Arthur and Lorenzo. When you started whining about not having personal space, the three squeezed you more between the three of them.

When you figured out that you were not gonna have any space, you stayed quiet, enjoying the presence of your brothers as they huddled and provided you warmth. Slowly dozing to sleep, you whispered good night to your brothers. The three of them hearing your words made them smile as they said it back to you, kissing your cheeks before going to sleep too.

When Pascale came home and noticed the house was too quiet for her own liking, she started becoming suspicious like what if you all already dueled to death. So she immediately rushed in the house, but seeing it empty and dark and not covered in blood, it didn’t relieve her. So she went up the stairs and saw the Lorenzo, Charles, and Arthur’s room was empty, and she started worrying. But when she heard soft snores in your room, her chest started to loosen up as she realised what was happening.

Opening the doors softly, she was greeted by her children all sleeping snuggly, cuddling with one another. More like squeezing each other. Lorenzo slept at the edge of the bed, and Charles on the other side, while you were in the middle of them, and Arthur diagonally placed on top of all three of you. Pascale smiled to herself, thinking how her plan was a success.

Wanting to keep the memory, she took a snap of all of you, mentally taking note that she needs this printed out and framed. She kissed you and your brothers’ foreheads, fixing the blanket so it was covering all four of you, before turning off the lights.

But before she retired for the day, she opened her mobile phone and sent the photo on the groupchat she made with all of your significant others with a caption, “look at your Leclercs’ completely passed out.”

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danikamariewrites · 2 months

Text

Watch Your Step

Feysand x reader

A/n: happy day 2 and another Feysand fic! Comfort fics are some of my favorites especially for Rhys. Some of my favorite moments with him and Feyre are in ACOWAR and he’s just doting on her. @polyacotarweek

Warnings: descriptions on injuries and comfort

“Nyx, slow down!” You yelled over the little boy's screeches and giggles as he ran through the upstairs hall. You held your dress above your calves, feet carrying you quickly.

You jumped toys littered across the carpet. Sighing mentally you make a note to have the boy clean up his toys. “Bet ya can’t catch me mom!” He giggled, disappearing around the corner. “No running on the stairs young man!” He giggled again as you heard the sound of winnowing. You came to a halt. The three of you knew Nyx’s powers were developing. He could finally hide his wings on command like Rhys. But winnowing was very new.

The first time he winnowed he had taken Rhys with him. Ending up outside the Winter Court palace wanting to see his friend, the Princess of Winter. To know he could winnow so far at such a young age was impressive but terrifying.

Your thoughts raced you began sprinting for the stairs. Praying to the Cauldron your little boy was only downstairs and not somewhere unknown.

Not keeping your eyes on the ground you completely missed the pair of toy swords in a small wagon on the first step. Your bare foot landed right on the center of the wooden toys, splintering them in half. Not even getting a chance to right yourself your other foot stays suspended in midair as the wagon moves across the stair.

Your ankle turns and you feel something pop. Falling down the stairs backwards you let out a scream. You try to grab hold of the banister to slow down, your fingers screaming in protest. You hit the curved landing hard. Rolling to a stop thanks to the wall.

Thanks to the pain numbing your body and ringing ears you didn’t hear Nyx scream for you. Or the multiple pairs of feet thundering to get to you as quickly as possible.

Groaning, you roll over onto your back, trying to keep your breathing steady. You keep your eyes screwed shut at the pain still coursing through your bones.

Nyx was now sitting next to you. A little hand on your face to comfort you. “Like mommy and daddy do for you,” he said once.

“I’m ok buddy, I’m ok.” You manage through gritted teeth. Opening your eyes you smile up at him. Panic on his little features. “See, mom’s ok. Just a little fall.”

Nesta and Azriel are first to arrive, Rhys and Feyre looking destressed right behind them. Nesta quickly gathers Nyx in her arms much to the boys dismay. He starts fidgeting wildly in his aunts arms fighting to get back to you.

Before he can be told to Az winnows away to get Madja. Rhys scoops you into his arms making his way to the bedroom quickly. Feyre prepares you a spot, fluffing your pillow as Rhys set you down gently.

“Questions later. I don’t want stress her out and add to her pain.” Rhys says into Feyre’s mind. He looks back at his mate to see silver lining her eyes. Her hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles with her thumb. “It’s ok angel, we’re here.” Feyre whispered softly. You squeezed her hand in response. The both of them could feel your pain through the bond and it was breaking their hearts.

Madja came bustling in as quickly as possible leaving Azriel to linger in the doorway. The old healer shoos your mates away, “I can’t work with you two breathing down my neck. Go with the Shadowsinger. I’ll come get you once she’s patched up.” Her tone leaves no room for argument. They’re hesitant to leave you but know it’s for the best.

An hour later Madja had left you with your ankle wrapped and strict bed rest orders which Feyre and Rhys took very seriously. For the next week your mates kept a close eye on you, not letting you move an inch.

“I still think you should keep your ankle elevated, my love.” Feyre sweetly chastises you a few days later. You roll your eyes as she puts the lunch tray down to fluff the throw pillow you abandoned a half hour ago.

“I’m fine, Fey. Besides, it’s practically healed.” She hummed, raising a brow at you, gently placing your foot on the pillow. “You want to tell Rhys that?” You sigh, dropping your head against the headboard.

Rhys has been worse than normal. Maybe because it was the worst at home injury any of you had sustained. He wouldn’t even let you sleep in the middle of the bed like usual. Rhys insisted you take his side while he slept in the middle so it would be easier to carry you out of bed.

Feyre placed the tray on your lap as she settled next to you, brushing a strand of hair behind your delicately pointed ear. “How are you feeling?” She asks softly.

“Better. The pain in my side is gone and my head is fine, the only problem is the pain in my ankle.” Feyre hums looking back at your bandaged ankle. You start to pick at your food when you notice a card under the plate. Picking it up you smile. Nyx had drawn you many get well soon cards over the last few days. “Good.”

In the middle of your meal and chat with Feyre, Rhys made his way into the bedroom taking the other spot next to you in bed. He takes your chin gently in his fingers, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. As if he was afraid of causing you more pain. “Hi angel, how are you feeling?” You smile against his lips, “Good.” He lets out a content hum leaning away from you.

As the week went on your mates let up on their hovering. When the bandage came off Rhys would massage your ankle every night, rubbing a special salve Madja gave you. While their overbearing nature at times can be aggravating, you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’d never stop being thankful to have mates and a family that cares so much about you.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #feyre x you #feyre x reader #feyreandrhysand #feyre acotar #feyre archeron #rhysand x you #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #poly!feysand #poly!feysand x you #poly!feysand x reader #poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d2

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